The (Romantic) Adventures of Mihrian and Perria
by BirdsHaveTeeth
Summary: A (self-indulgent) collection of ongoing One-shots, drabbles, and short stories centered around my original characters Mihrian and Perria! All stories take place in the Skyward Sword timeline, and the pairings include: Strich/OC, Fledge/OC (one-sided?), Groose/Zelda, Cawlin/OC (one-sided) Rated T currently, but may change later on. Any and all mature chapters will be specified.
1. Don't Touch the Honey! (Part 1)

**Chapter Summary: How Mihrian and Strich first met.**

_**A/n: Don't ever trust me to concoct good titles, because I WON'T. Also, the song used here is called "In The Trees" by Stalgia, which I strongly recommend listening to while reading this.**_

**Words: 3300+ (See why I had to split this up into parts now...?)**

**Warnings: None**

**. . .**

Mihrian sighed, looking back down at her blank sheet of paper. She was holding her pencil just centimeters away from the parchment, and yet nothing motivated her to brush the pen across its surface. This is what happens when you procrastinate and then try to force yourself to draw, stupid. She thought to herself, sighing deeply and favoring the act of flipping the pen around through her fingers as opposed to actually drawing.

The Hylian looked up from her spot nestled against a tree, half-hidden by the underbrush on one side, and out for anyone to see on the other path. Her soft, light yellow eyes flitted from her blank page and her classmates as they walked by, as always, not giving her a second glance as they joked and chatted away with one another.

Among them was Groose. Ah, yes, the notorious airhead bully with a weird hair-do was already hard to ignore, and if not his unique appearance then his loud, and obnoxious calls for attention and drama he calls his personality made him even harder to tune out.

Unlike the other students, Groose was very tall and broad, standing out from most of his peers like a carp in a pool of goldfish. And perhaps not in a good way either. Mihrian hadn't ever particularly disliked him in the beginning since he never bothered _her_, but the stunts he pulled on other students had definitely rooted a distaste for his presence—and loud voice—somewhere inside of her subconscious.

Despite her uneasiness of his character it never stopped the occasional sketch of the guy from popping up in her sketchbooks every now and then. Perhaps his uniqueness compared to all others inspired her to scribble him? Or maybe he's just the only one she believes is too stupid to notice someone staring at him for an entire class period while trying to get his jawline right. Ugh, at least she can rely on his clear obliviousness if not anything else, he's one hell of a fun specimen to doodle.

Oh, Goddess, what would Groose think if he found out she's been _drawing_ him? Mihrian cringes at the thought, a small shudder of dread shaking her for a moment. The last thing he needs is something else to shovel fuel into his bloated ego.

She supposes she's lucky, at least she doesn't have to deal with his unwanted attention and teasings like Link and Fledge have to just about every day. She didn't think she'd be able to wish that torture upon anyone.

It was also no school-boy-secret that Groose was indeed infatuated with Hyrule's dearest Princess, Zelda herself, much to her and Link's mutual annoyance. To the rest, it's quite amusing to watch the big guy getting shot down time after time again by a tiny princess half his size who obviously, has twice his wit.

Though, Mihrian always wondered how Groose ever got his lackeys, Cawlin and Strich to follow him around, and literally do dirty work for him. Who in their right mind finds companionship and trust in a person like that? Of course, she didn't know Groose personally, and he could very well be a whole different person, but she couldn't help but still ask 'why?' Other than the fact that Groose is conveniently much larger and stronger than tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum, it makes no sense. Did he have something on them? blackmail?

Now that she thinks of it… she hadn't ever really seen Cawlin or Strich try to get involved unless they were told, or they'd been directly insulted themselves. Cawlin was probably one of the angriest little Hylians she's ever met, he's small, but oh does he get red in the face when someone says anything about it. No one ever dared mention his enormous crush on Karane, nor did anyone really pity him for being one of Groose's sidekicks, even knowing about the back-and-forth thing that was going on between the redhead of Cawlin's dreams and Pipit.

And then there was Strich, the tall one, skinny, bug-enthusiast. He was quieter than the other two, but not shy by any means— like she always seemed to be. He never really got into backing up Groose or being a real dick unless someone starts talking trash about him to his face, especially when Pipit started cracking bug jokes. Mihrian feels like he's the type to seem non-aggressive, but if you step on a bug in front of him he'll either **a) **cry or **b) **kill you with his bare hands.

He actually… came up in her sketchbook every now and then too, as well as many many insects and diagrams thereof from their shared biology/botanist class. It was an elective, and it had initially interested her because she knew few students would take it, which meant she'd be in less of a crowded class. But she's found quite the passion in nature and plant life since taking it. She's even got her father growing her own little garden back home. Did Strich take the class because of the insect enclosures? Or did he secretly like plants too?

Strich was also much more observant than Groose or Cawlin, she always had a feeling he could tell she was looking in his direction every few seconds, or perhaps that he's seen her draw butterflies and intricate beetles and she was only imagining his potential interest in her at all.

She was shaken from her thoughts as a softly-colored lavender butterfly fluttered around her head to land on the tip of her freckled nose. Her golden, yellow eyes crossed to center on the small body of the butterfly, her normally soft and slanted gaze growing bigger with interest as the tiny creature opened and closed its wings. Mihrian let a smile creep onto her lips and did her best to quell the reflex of sneezing as to not scare it off. She lifted her hand to her nose and let the butterfly crawl onto her finger, watching it perch itself on her knuckle and feeling it's minuscule legs tickle her skin.

Seeing as the butterfly wasn't going anywhere soon, Mihrian was overcome with the inspiration to draw, almost like an itch. So, she grasped her pencil again, and re-opened her sketchbook to a fresh page and started to rough out the details and shapes of the very same creature that sat upon her hand. As her subconscious started to drown out all other things in the world while she drew, she started to hum a familiar tune.

. . .

Seeing as Groose had centered his full attention on trying to flirt with an unamused Zelda, Strich and Cawlin peacefully crept away from the scene, Cawlin making grossed out faces as they left. Strich stifled a laugh, his best friend mimicking kissy-faces while pretending to be Zelda. Eventually, though, the two parted ways once the shorter of them caught sight of Karane carrying baskets towards the academy. Cawlin didn't ever miss the chance to appeal to the redhead, so he was dashing off in her direction immediately after hurrying a "See'ya later!" to which Strich had no time to return.

The tall, lanky blonde decided to keep walking, keeping an eye out for any and all tiny crawlers as they passed by. Nothing worth catching, but entertaining enough to watch nonetheless. He wasn't too far away from the academy grounds when he caught wind of strange noises. He stopped and looked around, eyes flitting around the place for what he now heard to be… singing?

It was faint at first, but as he started to follow it a bit loosely, he could make out some of the words…

_I could use a little somethin'_

_Call it what it is, it's really nothin'_

_Concussion_

_Wipe my memory_

He looked around trying to follow his ears, even though the voice bounced gently off of all surfaces it touched and scrambled his perception of it slightly.

_Wake up in the trees on an island by the sea_

_Suddenly starts to pour while you're standing next to me and it was perfect_

Strich finally spotted the source, a girl tucked under a tree, just off the road. Her voice was soft and left him quite enamored, but he wasn't focused on her. But the rare, lavender-spotted butterfly perched on top of her hand as she sang and seemingly drew at the same time. And once he was over the butterfly he was retaken into the scene of the girl still mid-melody,

_You made it right, you made it worth it_

_You made it right, you made it worth it_

_You made it right_

_You made it right_

_I could use a little somethin'_

_I could use a little somethin'_

Strich recognized her, the quiet and meek student he sat next to in Plant Biology, and just behind in Skyloftian History and Mythology. He remembers faintly wondering why she even went to school there, she hardly looked knightly, or the type to want to be, in fact, she only ever really seemed to be interested in scribbling away in her sketchbook. Even though… he vaguely recalls watching her draw on multiple occasions.

_Cool off your body's the sun_

_I got a third degree burn from the somethin' I'm on—_

Just then, as if feeling that eyes were peering in on her, she looked up and met his gaze straight on. Her song halted and she suddenly looked like she'd just been caught red-handed in a murder, her big yellow eyes and rapidly reddening face displaying the embarrassment she must be ready to burst with.

"Oh-ah! Strich, was it? I- Wasn't..." Mihrian quickly scrambled to her feet, mortified to have been caught singing, and with a bug on her hand. How embarrassing! She clutched her sketchbook tightly to her chest with one hand and began to lightly shake her other hand, trying to get the butterfly off of it. Strich was quick to stop her.

"No, stop!" He panicked, rushing over to Mihrian and cupping his hands gingerly around hers to carefully scoop up the small beauty, holding it with care. "The wings are delicate, you must be more careful…"

Mihrian looked dumbfoundedly at him at first, her blush luckily fading back into peach flesh. And then she felt her lips twitching upwards in a soft smile, her heartstrings being tugged, she watched him curiously as he stared down at the butterfly with a passionate but gentle admiration. She knew well enough about his love for insects, but this was… she'd never known how... Who would've thought someone who hung out with Groose and Cawlin could be so caring?

Especially since Groose had a thing for stepping on things that were smaller than him.

Mihrian had to admit that she liked this Strich much more than the one he was with Groose. Why did he let the oaf get him and Cawlin in trouble all the time? Groose never took the blame when he got called out on doing something wrong, it always landed upon his lackeys to take the hits. But, she doesn't know them or Groose, there could be something deeper about their friendship that everybody didn't know about.

"I'm... I apologize…I didn't know." Strich looked away from the butterfly just as she started speaking, meeting her eyes as she spoke with an attentiveness to detail she wasn't expecting. She would go on more about how no one ever looked her in the eyes when she talked, but something left her speechless. Mihrian held back a gasp when she saw his eyes. She felt it was safe to admit that everybody was too focused on his nose to notice them, even she was guilty of this when drawing, never really putting as much detail in his eyes as she did that one particular feature. She was certainly regretting it now.

His eyes were a gorgeous dark blue with tiny specks of light blue around the pupil, truly a sight to behold. Perhaps this was just her inner-artist talking but she still found herself unable to look away from those eyes. Mihrian had always found eyes to be the most attractive thing about a person, and maybe it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, but she was taking the time to notice how his bright blonde hair—even in such a silly style— really complimented the rest of his face. Goddess, she was so weird! This as Strich! Someone she barely knew… but those eyes.

"You have gorgeous eyes…" The words that initially were meant as a thought came tumbling from her lips before she could stop them. And since her body just seemed to be keen on moving and talking without thinking today, her hand rose of its own accord to brush his straight—and slightly windswept—bangs to the side to get a better look at his eyes. She wasn't even processing that she was supposed to be shy right now, blushing up a storm and apologizing until she fainted.

Strich was worse, his face had gone a dark raspberry as soon as she spoke, and even darker when she felt her fingertips brushing against his forehead. No one, and he means, _no one_ has ever said something like _that_ to him before. How was he supposed to respond? Should he? Was there even something he could say without embarrassing himself?

Unfortunately, words were spilling from his mouth before he could think about them first.

"I get them from my mother." Wow, how lame could he possibly be? Not that it was untrue, he and his mother looked a lot alike. They shared the same blonde hair, same god-awful nose, and both of them were very tall. He supposed it intimidated people, which went well with his reputation as the school creep. But a girl just complimented him and his first instinct was to subject her to his eternal awkward lameness. He tried to save himself on a whim with his next quip.

"Your eyes are nice too, _I always thought so_." _Whoops._ That wasn't supposed to come out. Congrats, Strich, you've managed to expose yourself in front of her. He watched her draw sometimes since he sat next to her in Professor Owlan's class since she often scribbled small bugs next to the gorgeous plants she would draw. But for whatever reason, he would sometimes end up staring at her instead.

As soon as he said it though, her hand jerked away as if she finally shook out of something. She clutched her fist to her chest almost protectively, her elbows drawn in towards her torso self-consciously and her eyes darting away as the skin around her face bloomed a delicate pink. Strich almost wished he hadn't said anything at all, maybe then she wouldn't have pulled her hand away. He was surprised to find that he actually found it quite pleasant.

"Ah- W-well, I wouldn't say that. And— we just met, how did you know what my… eyes look like?" She was just rambling now, getting quieter and softer as her confidence deflated the longer she talked. Strich hadn't ever seen someone look so nervous before, she looked as if she might explode any moment, was about what he said? It was a compliment though, right? Did he make her uncomfortable? Before he could apologize he was blurting out a reply.

"We sit next to each other in Professor Owlan's class, remember?"

Well, she knew _that!_ But she'd never expected him to spare her a second glance, better yet say she had 'nice eyes' when his own clearly outshined hers!

"Oh, right, yeah, of course, I knew that! I just…I'm always distracted, I guess." Which was true, she drew the majority of the class period, not that she didn't pay attention to class, the long notes beside her drawings said otherwise. More so that she was unaware of her surroundings when she was busy scribbling and focusing in class at the same time.

Strich watched the girl closely, as she swayed slightly in her nervousness as if anxiety had its own dance. Was she alright?

"Are you alright? You look…" He tried to find the right word for, but he didn't get the chance to.

"No! I mean, yes! What was the question?"

Strich couldn't help but laugh, she was so awkward it was almost entertaining. Perhaps she was like him in that aspect, his chuckle must've triggered some sort of defense mechanism because Mihiran started nervously laughing too. But as he looked up to her eyes they looked a bit too glossy to be genuinely laughing. He was awful at this.

"I asked uh… If you were okay, but… I guess it really meant 'do you want me to leave you alone now?'" He shrunk a little, as much as someone of his height could at least. He barely knew this girl, but he was already dropping the 'tough guy' act he normally had to uphold when around Groose and Cawlin. "It's okay if you do, I'm kind of invading your privacy—"

"No, please, stay!" Mihrian just couldn't catch a break today, now she just sounded desperate. Like someone's crazy ex-girlfriend. "I mean, I wouldn't mind if you did."

Mihrian was sweating, hoping she hadn't scared him off. It apparently scared something else off though, because the butterfly finally took flight.

The blonde looked after the butterfly as it fluttered away, Mihran turned just in time to see it disappear into the berry bushes.

"I'm sorry, you probably wanted to keep that one for your collection. Sorry I-I scared it off." This time _he_ was surprised. First of all, not many people knew about his obsession, let alone his collection of said obsession. In fact, off the top of his head, the only people he was sure knew in the academy were, Link, Cawlin, Groose, and he thinks Zelda too. Apparently, Mihrian knows too. Secondly, the fact that she apologized! It wasn't her fault, and he would've popped it in a jar as soon as he scooped it up earlier if he'd wanted it badly enough. It didn't feel right hearing her apology.

"Don't say that, I have lots of them, and you found it first, and I know you'd rather let it go free." Mihrian smiled, something she rarely did in front of others, always too caught up in hiding. He took the time to look her up and down.

Mihrian was much shorter than him with a small frame. She sported slightly sunburnt pale skin— likely from flying practice or overall knightly classes— and a round lightly-freckled face, short chin-length dark brown hair, and golden, honey-colored eyes. The Hylian also seemed to favor wearing lots of desaturated reds and purples, dressed in the usual layers most knights-in-training did. She was pretty, concerningly pretty, considering that she's going to a school like this. Was it alright to worry for someone you hardly knew because they were pretty?

She shifted in place, the silence becoming more awkward the longer he seemed to stare at her. In a way she perceived as judgmental in her self-consciousness. She decided to swallow her shyness, and take a risk.

"Hey, I know we just 'met' and all, but would you wanna perhaps go somewhere with me? I know a place packed with cool plants and tons of rare bugs, and I feel if want to tell anyone about it, it should be you." Mihrian looked less uncomfortable now, her shoulders a bit looser, and she was smiling. Smiling at the ground, but still. Did she really expect him to say no? Not that it wasn't easy to tempt him, especially with things like food or insects, but he would've gone if she was asking him to go anywhere at this point. She was just so interesting.

You had me at 'rare bugs', Miss." She stifled a laugh behind her palm, and Strich thanked the Goddess for being able to say at least one thing right today.

"We'll have to fly there… I believe you fly as well, yes?"

. . .


	2. Don't Touch the Honey! (Part 2)

**Chapter Summary: How Strich and Mihrian met (continued)**

_**A/n: back at it again making up words to go with my story.**_

**Words: 3000+**

**Warnings: Near-death experiences?**

**. . .**

Mihrian flew just a few paces ahead of him on her own Loftwing, it's feathers a mixture of brownish-orange, peach, and tan. Coincidentally, the big bird was a bit smaller than most, just like it's master. The girl looked back at him and then pointed up, mouthing the word 'up' to him over the loud wind. He looked confused, so she turned back around and pulled back on the reins, her Loftwing starting pulling up, higher into the sky through some dense clouds.

Cautiously, Strich sped up and followed suit, low and behold, there was a small isle in the distance. Funny… he'd never heard about it, normally isles were clustered only small flying distances away from one another. They landed as soon as they got close enough, letting their Loftwings glide to the ground in an unpracticed but steady landing.

Mihrian hopped off the saddle of her bird and patted her mount on the head, her hands smoothing over her orange feathers, muttering something along the lines of "Stay here."

Was her Loftwing normally disobedient? Or just protective? Luckily his own green idiot of a bird wasn't stupid enough to leave him somewhere foreign unless he told it to, but that was just because his particular bird was lacking in brains as opposed to others. He should be grateful Strich gives him so much attention!

Once her Loftwing, whom he heard her call 'Ginger', looked thoroughly convinced her master wasn't going to spontaneously combust without her presence, she started off towards the forest. She turned to look at him with a playful smile. "You coming or not?"

Strich gave her a strange look but followed. A lady you barely know is leading you into a strange forest, yeah, not dangerous at all. She seemed to know her way quite well, ducking under every branch and carefully side-stepping every stone without even looking. He, was not so fortunate. He got smacked in the face multiple times by stray branches, almost tripped twice, and was now currently still spitting out leaves.

"You sure know your way around here!" Strich said, catching up to walk beside her, trying his hardest to not wander off towards familiar sounds.

"Of course! I come here all the time, I oughta know I guess." She looked at him as they walked just ducking out of the way of a vine as she spoke, and leading him around an overgrown bush in the middle of the dirt path. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes," Such bad timing to run face-first into a branch of leaves.

Mihrian giggled and grabbed his hand in an attempt to protect him from more peril.

After another good ten minutes of walking, Mihrian led him out into a large clearing with a small glistening lake. One, might he add, that was bustling with clusters of life. Most of the space was surrounded by a wall of trees, most of which were covered in thin sheets of butterflies of all kinds. There were boulders just waiting to be overturned, and bushes likely filled with all sorts of multi-legged wonders. To say Strich was excited would be an understatement, this had to be the bug paradise he's been dreaming about since he was a tyke.

Obediently, he trailed after Mihrian as she headed towards the banks of the crystal-clear lake, looking over the edge he could see the outlines of fish under the water's surface.

Mihrian sat him down and he watched curiously as she dug through her bag and pulled out a rag, she dipped it in the water and held his chin steady so she could clean a cut on his cheek that he hadn't even realized was there! Must've got it from a branch, it didn't hurt—

He made a small hissing sound when she used a little too much pressure, and he blushed when he ended up contradicting his own thoughts. It was just a cut, he was being a baby, and in front of a girl! Her eyes darted up to his the moment the sound left his lips and she let up on it, her eyes crinkling with concern. Strich half-expected her to laugh at him for being so un-manly like Groose and Cawlin would have.

"I'm sorry about all the trouble it took getting here, sometimes I just get so used to being alone," Strich watched as she began digging through her bag again, patiently waiting for her to continue her thought so he could shut it down, and reassure her it was no trouble. "That I forget others aren't."

"You don't have to be alone all the time," Strich says and she pauses her rummaging to look at him as if she was really _seeing_ him for the first time. And it was funny because he gave Cawlin the same look when he said the very same thing when they were children.

He was a lonely kid, taller than most of his class, talked too much and almost exclusively about bugs. He carried around an insect-o-pedia, caught bugs during recess, and all the other kids just didn't like him. It was pathetic really. Seeing as his mother was the only one who truly understood him. Even though she didn't quite understand his obsession with bugs, she was still very supportive of it. Of course, he has Cawlin and Groose now, and even if they don't entirely appreciate his… er.. "hobby", they accepted him. He wasn't alone anymore.

"I'm… not alone _all_ the time, my best friend, Perria makes sure of that. But, I was for a long time before well, _her_." Mihrian clarifies, smiling at the thought of her friend and finally pulling out something small and tearing the package open, she then sticks a bandage to what feels like a nasty cut.

"I was like that too, before I got stuck with dumb and dumber." She giggles and Strich smiles, finding that he likes hearing it.

"I'm glad that you at least have them, it's not very fun being alone, even when you want to be." She wrung out the rag and laid it out in the sun to dry, stuffing the empty package back in her bag. "Even if your taste in friends has me a little concerned."

This time Strich laughs, if it were anybody else saying that he'd of punched them in the face by now. His friends are pricks, but only _they_ get to call each other that in front of him. Somehow he knows Mihrian means no harm.

"Maybe it's the only friends I'm capable of making." He snorts, clearly, referring to his reputation. And perhaps his fascination with insects that normally, would send just about anyone running for the hills.

"I could be your friend."

"You don't quite fit my tastes according to you."

"Oh, shush, you know what I meant!"

Strich looks around at his surroundings again, eyes longingly flitting between all the possible spaces he knew bugs make their homes. Mihrian notices.

"You know you can look around, Strich, you aren't on a leash." Mihrian offers, gesturing to the open space around them.

Strich didn't need to be told twice, he was hopping off the stone he's been perched on and was running about not a moment later. Mihrian watched happily as he overturned rocks and dug through bushes, steering clear of butterfly covered trees though. The tall blonde looked like a kid in a sweet shop, eyes lighting up at every discovery like he was unwrapping gifts on a holiday.

His eyes stopped aimlessly wandering immediately after he heard a low buzzing noise from a nearby bush. He crept over to it with caution, wanting to be sure of what he thought he had just heard. He hoped to the goddess that he was wrong, and that he'd just find a bunch of foraging honey-bees.

Noticing the extreme change in demeanor displayed by her new friend, Mihrian cocked her head to the side and voiced her worry. "Is something wrong, Strich?"

He didn't respond at first, simply putting a finger to his lips, ushering her to quiet down. Strich picked up a stick and gently lifted a few leaves, only to yeet the stick away from whatever he saw and into the lake.

"Run." Mihrian rose from her spot on the banks of the lake, having narrowly dodged the flying stick he'd thrown. The Hylian's eyebrows rose and then creased together worriedly, her confusion only worsening the situation at hand. She walked over to him despite his warning and put a hand on his shoulder. Strich visibly jumped at the contact, snapping out of the staring contest he'd had with the swarm of death just under that bush.

Strich suddenly bolted, grabbing her arm and dragged her towards the exit of the clearing.

"Run run run run run run!"

She heard him chant in a panic, and just as a cloud of tiny black bodies emerged from the disturbed bush, and started chasing them. Seeing as the swarm looked far from friendly, Mihrian began to run alongside her acquaintance who was all but freaking out now. As scared as she was, Mihrian threw a glance over her shoulder to get a better look at just what they were running from. All she could make out were the tiny bodies of what looked like wasps or hornets, but much bigger and entirely black in color.

She was shaken from her thoughts when Strich whistled for his Loftwing. She was too out of breath to do the same, and her vision was quickly getting blurrily spotty the longer she forced herself to move. The big green bird flew down to where they ran but did not land, it flew along with them until the edge of the isle came into view.

Strich picked up a pace his long legs allowed, dragging a disheveled Mihrian. She was used to running laps around the academy in one of her many physical classes, and she was quicker on her feet than most with her smallness, but she was never good with running long distances.

Mihrian's vision got worse, and she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears. As hard as she was trying to keep up, she inevitably started to fall behind, running out of steam fairly quickly as she approached her limits. Strich, who felt her starting to slow down, thought quickly. Remembering a lesson about getting victims out of conflict, he stopped only for a moment and somehow hoisted the girl onto his back.

Mihrian was a little too out of it to think, her arms clinging around his shoulders and her knees bracketing around his midsection to balance her weight and steady herself. Strich was a bit slower now that he was carrying Mihrian's extra weight, and he could hear the buzzing noise catch up just a little. But it didn't matter he hopped off the edge of the island before the swarm had a chance to get close enough.

The next thing Mihrian felt once she caught her breath enough, was the wind smacking against her face as she fell. She attempted to whistle for Ginger, but her breath was still too heavy to make a sound. She didn't have time to process that she was probably about to die.

Just then Stitch whistled again, and they collided with a body of feathers, but Mihrian already felt the light-headed swirl of nausea which meant she was going to faint—

. . .

Mihrian came back around not even ten seconds later, and she cracked an eye open, only to find her face was buried in some sort of blue fabric. She groaned softly, lifting her head and leaning back— before nearly falling backward.

The brunette yelped and latched onto the body in front of her. Wait— who?

It was…Strich?

Yes, of course, it was! And they were on his Loftwing, flying away from the isle.

Once they flew to a safe height and distance from the isle, Strich looked back to see if his friend was alright. He hadn't heard her talk since the jump.

"Mihrian, ya doing okay?" She couldn't help but let her eyes linger on his a moment longer, before she nodded and let out an exasperated breath, dropping her forehead to rest against his shoulder blade.

"Yes… I'm fine."

She glanced back at the distant the isle, almost out of sight now. She faced him again, still looking a bit shocked. Once her mind sorted itself out and she could think reasonable thoughts once more, she thought back to how Strich reacted to the strange swarm of bugs.

"What were those?!" He was breathing hard too so he didn't answer right away. He sifted through his memories and then replied.

"Chimeria, or better known as Ebony Wasps."

"Chi-mer-ia...?" The word felt foreign and strange on her tongue like it was a different language. She also couldn't even begin to understand how dangerous they must be, she's seen plenty of wasp and hornet colonies over the years of visiting the island. None of them have ever attacked her.

Noticing the confused and silent armada of questions he saw in her expression, Strich flipped through a few pages of his memory of the species. His mind mentally going through encyclopedias that he's read about.

"They're like your average wasp, but bigger, blacker, and very poisonous. A whole swarm of that size would have been fatal if we hadn't gotten outta there in time."

Her mouth made a silent "oh" shape and she averted her gaze, her arms fixing themselves awkwardly around Strich's waist.

Strich looked back to the front to make sure his Loftwing was going in the right direction, tugging the reins lightly to the left to urge him back on course. His bird had a tendency to get lost or confused when unsupervised.

Mihrian's Loftwing flew beside them, keeping a safe distance with the length of both Loftwings' wingspan. She was clearly concerned for her master's safety, and Strich wondered how close Mihrian must be with her bird.

"Thank you," He glanced over at her from behind his shoulder, confused as to why she was thanking him. Why was she thanking him? He answered a question, about something he clearly would know.

"What do you mean? I'm a breathing insect encyclopedia." He chuckled turning back to the sky.

"No, not that," She looked up and smiled. "You just saved my life back there— you literally carried me! I-I don't even know what to say, you really— Thank you."

Strich felt his cheeks blush and an overwhelming feeling of shyness of being praised. Sure, he's never actually saved someone's life before, but he hadn't been expecting to be thanked for it. Perhaps it was from all the time spent with Groose, but he couldn't deny that it sure felt good to be appreciated. He gulped and shrugged, trying to appear cool.

"N-no problem. It was nothing really." He flushed darker, his attempt to seem cool and collected backfiring the moment he opened his mouth. Mihrian wasn't having any of his humbleness though.

"Nothing really? That was amazing! I owe you my life!" Flattered and a bit embarrassed, but his chest filled with pride, a stupid smile spread across his face. And Mihrian kept the compliments coming strong in her gratitude. "At this rate, I'm sure you'll be a wonderful Knight, Strich."

"I— thanks." He stuttered out, the only thing he could say in a situation like this. It wasn't every day he was receiving compliments from a girl, or anyone else for that matter.

Mihrian smiled, feeling as if she's allowed him to feel proud of himself. She suspects from his earlier insistence that it was nothing, and his confusion as to why she'd even consider thanking him, that he's perhaps a bit unused to flattery. Mihrian did, however, realize after much delay, that she was indeed on a Loftwing with another person. And not only was she nervous about being so close to Strich, but also for how much extra weight she must be putting onto the big green bird.

"Uh-Um, I can probably jump over onto Ginger from here, I wouldn't want your Loftwing to be carrying both of our weight…" Mihrian suggested, and in a subconscious impulse to convince her to stay seated behind him, close to him, he was speaking in jest.

"Groose never seems to have a problem."

There is a long silence between them before both start laughing uncontrollably, Mihrian is a mess of giggles and smiles behind him and Strich isn't much better. Groose would string him up and use him for target practice if he ever heard the trash he was talking about him. But what he doesn't know won't hurt him- or Strich- right?

"That's s-so mean!" Mihrian wheezed, trying to sound genuine, but falling short as more chuckles echoes through her smiling lips.

"So is he!" Mihrian slapped his shoulder and Strich grinned sheepishly, ducking his head down and sneering when she continued to snicker.

"Hey, you aren't too nice either sometimes, you're still one of 'pompadour's' henchies at the academy." Mihrian reminded him, and he couldn't argue. She was right, he was just as bad as Groose sometimes, and he'd participated in the trio's bullying many times before. Even if he didn't necessarily pick on the other students like his friends did, he'd let it happen in front of him.

"Misguided influence?" He received another rap on the shoulder and a flick behind his ear for that one.

"Shame on you." In spite of the mild, half-hearted accusatory tone of her voice, she still held on loosely around his waist, making no move to hop onto her own Loftwing. Strich is unsure how to feel about realizing he'd wanted her to ride with him, and that he's practically succeeded in subtly persuading her to.

He has no more time to think about it, because Skyloft comes into view and he worries exclusively on landing on the stone-brick walk of the edge of the floating town.

. . .


	3. Sick Day (StrichMihrian)

**Chapter Summary: Perria's stuck in bed sick today, and Mihrian's on her own. Let's see how that goes...**

_**A/n: This s a pretty big leap away from the first two chapters just letting you know. **_

**Pairings: Pre-established Strich/Mihrian, Implied Perria/Fledge (one-sided?)**

**Words: 1500+**

**Warnings: Groose being a dick, mild unhealthy jealous/possessive behavior. **

**. . .**

Mihrian is tucked comfortably underneath the cool shade of a tree in the courtyard, a large span of grass many students used to eat or practice on during lunchtime. Perria wasn't feeling well at all when she woke up today, so she wasn't going to be out of bed at all. Poor thing. Perria only very rarely got ill, but when she did it would always hit her hard.

Mihrian's hand lightly clutched a pen, scribbling soft, lazy sketches of ink into the page.

She took a bite out of the green apple she held in her free hand, her daytime meals as light as they always were. Mihrian—and probably plenty of others—cringed at the boisterous shout of Groose announcing his normally unwanted and unnecessary arrival.

But, despite her disinterest in whatever Groose had to say, her head still popped up upon hearing his voice to see if his much more important—to _her_—followers had tagged along. Bright, yellow eyes immediately settled on Strich, looking as passive-aggressively uninterested as ever.

Mihrian smiled when she saw him looking around the courtyard in search of whom she hoped was herself. The lanky blonde was quick to spot the tiny brunette and his face lit up with a charming smile. She sheepishly grinned back and waved him over with a lithe hand.

Strich threw an intelligible few partings over his shoulder at his buddies, but otherwise made no other indication of his departure.

Groose seemed too preoccupied with his bi-weekly squabble with Link to pay him much mind, and Cawlin only rolled his eyes, shooing his taller friend away with what must've been a teasing remark. Strich looked a little red in the face afterward.

His Loftwing also trailed behind him as he approached the tree, Mihrian's own mount perking up at the sight of her regular playmate. Ginger was scurrying over to the big green bird before Strich had even sat down.

"Hello, Strich, how was your morning?" She asked sweetly, shutting her sketchbook and pushing it aside in favor of talking to him. She also shuffled a bit closer to him, just so their shoulders touched, and her timid fingers slid in between the spaces of Strich's.

"Groose is in a bad mood," He said, gesturing to the fuming red-haired giant currently shouting at Skyloft's Hero as if to prove a point. "-so, he and Cawlin got into it this morning in our first class, but otherwise it was alright."

Strich rolled his eyes and sighed deeply, leaning back further against the tree. Mihrian nodded, squeezing his hand with a sympathetic half-smile, knowing how stress just kind of revolves around his friendship with Groose and Cawlin.

Strich appreciated the pressure around his fingers and switched topics, tilting his head towards her.

"How was yours? Where's Perria?"

Mihrian sighs; reminded of her bed-ridden friend's condition.

"Staying in bed sick today, but I've had a good morning so far," She laments, "Lonely though."

Strich peers down at the girl, knowing that Mihrian had unspoken issues functioning without the company and over-flowing reassurance of her optimistic companion. She'd once admitted to him, that she didn't mind being alone unless she was forced to be.

Strich squeezed back in a way he hoped was reassuring, and nudged her shoulder with his chin playfully. To which she giggled, and turned her head so he could gently peck her lips with his own.

"I can walk you in between classes today if you like?" He offered, aware that those few minutes of walking from one class to another were where her anxiety was at its strongest.

He couldn't blame her, Perria wasn't around to protect her from the crowd.

Mihrian only chuckled and although she would've loved that, she had to decline.

"No, that's okay, Strich, our classes are far apart. I will make you late."

Strich scrunched up his face in thought, sifting through the neatly organized files in his mind for something to combat with. And suddenly something clicked, he gave himself a mental tally for having thought of it so quickly. Luckily Strich was well-versed in appealing to Mihrian's softest side, knowing just the right strings to tug to gently convince her to do anything.

"Hmm... Well, can we at least meet up at my room before next class? There's something I need to do." Strich asked, trying to distract her from getting too far into her head and overthinking it by playing with her fingers.

His distraction did its purpose.

"W-well..." Mihrian started, sounding hesitant to give in even if she wanted to.

"It won't take long, we'll be in and out, I promise." The lads of Strich's fingertips brushed lightly over her scraped knuckles, absent-mindlessly tracing around the scabs she most likely received from sword practice.

"I suppose so... but only a moment! I wanna check up on Perria first, alright?"

He nodded eagerly, silently gleaming with pride. Who wouldn't be after having successfully convinced his wonderful girlfriend so quickly? Especially since he knew she'd refuse if she knew he intended in spoiling her.

"Great! and... uh, Cawlin might be in there for a moment while we're there but don't mind him!" Crap, he hadn't even considered that thought until just now.

Mihrian smiled and nodded, implying that she didn't mind.

The two talked a while more, with light banter until a concerned-looking Fledge approached, wringing his hands anxiously.

Mihrian perked up at the familiar face and Strich wisely remained silent as the two exchanged greetings. It was a bit awkward when the kid you and your friends messed with on the daily was friends with your girlfriend.

"Good afternoon, Fledge! did you need something?"

Fledge returned her greeting, and bobbed his head nervously, his brown eyes flickering over to Strich for a split second. The boy gulped and hastily turned his attention back to Mihrian.

"Good Afternoon, Mihra, I just haven't seen Perria today. Is she alright?"

Strich's pointed ear twitches unpleasantly upon hearing Fledge use her nickname. He never even knew she _had_ a nickname. He told himself he shouldn't be jealous just because Mihrian had a male friend, but their closeness still bothered him slightly. After all, Fledge had known her much longer than him. That and his friends' influence naturally formed a distaste for him.

"Oh, I'm sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but Perria's not feeling well today and won't be attending her classes." Mihrian smiled warmly at the worried frown Fledge displayed upon hearing her answer.

She knows well how he must feel about his friend feeling sick.

"Oh, r-really? That's awful! It's nothing serious, right?" Fledge asked, his skin breaking out into a small sweat with stress. The worried crease in his brow threatened to stick like that and indent his skin.

"Just a nasty cold, I think. But don't worry, Fledge, Perria's a trooper." The greenish-blonde haired Hylian visibly relaxes, but appears to want to say something more, but won't. Mihrian smirks and Strich shifts uncomfortably at her side.

"You still want to check in on her, don't you?" Mihrian pries knowingly, and Fledge's already red cheeks flush even darker. But he sheepishly nods nonetheless, admitting it.

"Well, then you're more than welcome to. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."

"You really think so?"

Strich was getting more and more unnerved by the moment, his irritation close to peaking and his mind practically chanting _'go away'_ in his head.

He really shouldn't be so upset over this, Fledge was Mihrian's friend and if she liked him then he had to suck it up... not to mention her friendship with the stuttering pushover was raising some questions about all the trash talk Groose had filled his head with in order to justify picking on Fledge.

"Well, I think she'll be glad to see any other face than mine! She says I fuss over her too much."

Fledge nods with a soft chuckle of his own, clasping his hands together in front of him and smiling down at the small Hylian with unspoken gratitude.

"That sure sounds like her- " He quipped, his sentence clipped when his eyes suddenly darted over to where Groose was finally breaking off the argument he'd had with Link when Zelda popped up. Fledge was quick to make his escape before being spotted. "Anyways thank you, and— _I'llseeyoulaterMihrabye!"  
_  
Somewhat making sense of the marbles mess of words tossed over her friend's shoulder, having fallen into a full-sprint when he thought he heard Groose call his name. Mihrian waved at him as he fled, disappearing into the Academy in search of his sick friend or a possible place to hide most likely.

Strich relaxes finally and leans further into her side, to which he receives a playful poke in the ribs. He wraps his arms around her back and pulls her halfway into his lap to dissuade her from resorting to taking advantage of the fact that he was incredibly, and quite embarrassingly ticklish.

"Does this mean you don't have to check on Perria first?"

A light smacking noise echoes dull-ly through the air and Strich rubs his pink cheek, playfully demanding justice for her actions.

. . .


	4. Cliché (FledgePerria)

**Chapter Summary: A visit to Fledge leads to an awkward conversation with a not-so-awkward outcome.**

_**A/n: It's kind of interesting writing dialogue for one of the most awkward characters in the game.**_

**Pairings: Fledge/Perria (One-sided?), Implied Cawlin/Perria (One-sided)**

**Words: 1500+**

**Warnings: Cliché, Fanfiction tropes, Unrequited Feelings... there's a lot.**

**. . .**

Perria paced around the room, not her room, of course. She took worried steps around Fledge's room, as the younger and much shyer Hylian hesitantly continued his daily set push-ups at the center of the room, watching her circle around the small space.

Fledge wanted to say something, try to help with whatever she was stressing over, but he couldn't find the courage to do so. He hated to see his friend like this.

Perria came in earlier to visit him as she normally did, just never at this time. This was the extra time in-between classes that she used to get in extra training, and she was adamant about sticking to it. What was she doing here? If that wasn't enough of a hint that something was on her mind, her rather quiet mood that had persisted since she arrived was more than enough of an indication.

Just before he felt he had the guts to ask, Perria started talking.

"Hey, Fledge?" She suddenly asked, and Fledge's ears perked up upon hearing her voice and his name, and his head tilted up in her direction.

"Ah, Y-yes?" The red-faced boy replied questioningly, reluctantly letting his faltering muscles rest and his body to slide flat onto the floor.

"Have you... have you ever liked someone, and even if you know they like somebody else... you can't help but... get... ah, what's the word?" Perria trailed off at the thought searching for the correct word for her worry.

Fledge, having now completely abandoned his exercise, sat up and stared at her with more interest than he'd meant to show.

"Jealous! Yeah, that's it! Have you ever felt jealous when you know someone you like, er… likes somebody else? even if you know they're not... y'know... interested?" Perria asked, and Fledge felt his heart drop but his stomach nervously bubble with butterflies.

"Oh, W-well, I uh... " Fledge thought for a moment, contemplating if what he was about to say would be a good idea. Probably not, but he still wanted to be honest with his friend, ...while still being vague, of course.

"_Yes_, actually."

"Really?" Perria's reaction was a mixture of relief and interest. She dropped down to sit beside him on the floor, folding her legs beneath her. "I always thought it was just me, I… I feel a little better knowing that even the sweetest of us can get a little jealous sometimes."

Fledge couldn't help the rosy blush that his face seemed to always have from deepening upon hearing his crush calling him sweet. She was right, he knew exactly what that feels like. And perhaps too well… Oh, the irony of it all. What sort of cliché was this?

"It- it's Cawlin, isn't it?" He found himself asking, trying to keep the disappointed undertone from spilling out with his words. He already knew. Mihrian had let it slip to him once before by accident, but he wanted to see if Perria would deny it.

Perria jerked her head to face him, her big brown eyes wide and her mouth slightly ajar. Her face turned bright pink, and she quickly averted her gaze. She started playing with the strings of her scarf, nervously.

"How did you know?" She asked warily, if not a bit worried. Was she afraid of other people knowing?

"W-well, you're not very subtle... and not that it's a b-bad thing or anything! But I just— "

"Mihrian told you didn't she?" Perria asked, the rhetorical unamused edge to her normally enthusiastic voice as well as the death glare she sent towards the door making it hard to fight the twitching urge to smile.

"Yeah," Fledge admitted submissively, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Perria looked like she was silently going over everything she'd tear into Mihrian about later, and was quiet for a few minutes. Fledge couldn't help the burning questions he's wanted to know since he found out she liked the short knight always hanging out with Groose.

"If you don't mind me asking... and I completely understand if you don't wanna tell me o-or talk about it b-but..." Fledge rambled on, stopping when he noticed she'd turned her attention to him, her brows raised and a small smile on her pink lips.

"Why him?" The timid Hylian asked finally, hoping he hadn't sounded as saddened as he felt.

It was a reasonable question he thought, Perria always had a zero-tolerance policy towards bullies. She warded off anyone who pestered Mihrian and has ripped Groose a new one on more occasions than he could count. And lately, Perria had even been protective over _him_, sitting next to him in class so she could whip the spitballs back at Groose. Fledge's cheeks colored at the thought, his friend and longtime love interest standing up for him.

So it should be fair to ask '_why him'_ shouldn't it? Crawlin, four-foot-tall lackey of one of Fledge's worst bullies, rude to just about anyone and clearly in love with another upperclassman, Karane. Was… was she talking about Karane earlier? About being jealous? Another question for another time. Of all the good-looking, courageous, and worthy students at the Academy—excluding himself of course— why did it have to be _him?_

"I ask myself the same thing sometimes," Perria replied, her voice lacking its usual luster.

Fledge peered over through his hair at his friend, her expression a mixture of distress and fondness. Even a less-bouncy Perria was still a beautiful one on his eyes. He shook his head of those absurd thoughts immediately after, he shouldn't be thinking about those things, especially right now.

"I guess we don't always get to choose who we fall for, my heart must be as reckless as I am." Perria chuckled half-heartedly, one of her hands buried in the fabric of her orange-striped scarf.

She always messed with it when she was nervous or thinking.

He didn't know why he noticed all these little things about her, the way she smiled differently at every person. The way she and Mihrian would gush and giggle to each other at lunchtime, the shyer of the two more confident in her optimistic friend's presence. Fledge even caught on to how she'd deflate slightly upon being scolded by a professor for talking in class.

"But I'm beginning to think that I'm leading myself down the wrong path." She confessed, her gaze downcast and sullen, making Fledge regret even asking. But before he could apologize she was talking again. "I should be focusing on becoming a knight, one of the best there ever was! But... instead of training I'm dumping all my problems onto you, over some... schoolgirl crush."

Perria suddenly looked mortified after speaking, apologetic brown eyes darting to meet Fledge's own. "I'm sorry if it seems like I only hang out with you to vent, I promise it's not!"

Fledge smiled warmly at her, and lightly bumped her shoulder with his own.

"I know, I-I don't mind, I always have time to help a friend, Perri. You're welcome here anytime you want, even if you just need me to listen."

Perria' face softened, realizing that he was anything if not sincere. He was never _not _honest with her, and always so compassionate. In a way, he reminded her of Mihrian, but he was so much different all the same. Perria took this moment to think about the time she's been friends with him, how easily she can talk to him about anything, and how patient he is. And he was certainly impressive athletically speaking. Not everybody can call three-thousand push-ups a warm-up!

She thinks back to the times where she's moved seats in the classes they shared, just to shield him from Groose's mockery. Fledge was so strong, but such a pushover.

She only wished he knew his value as well as he knew his strength.

Perria smiled fondly at the kind one beside her, softly bumping her shoulder back into his. But it wasn't enough for her to feel satisfied just yet. She cursed her impulse to just squeeze the life out of him. She allowed herself to gently hug him with one arm, stifling a chuckle when he tenses up like an awkward tree.

"Thank you, Fledge."

Fledge knows he shouldn't think much of the unexpected act of affection, but he just can't help himself. He hugs her back, timidly, but enthusiastically in his flustered state. He was sure his face was burning at this point. He didn't know if Perria only embraced certain people, but he allowed himself to think that she did just this once. Like he was special.

"Anytime..." He sighed contentedly, his heart soaring when she didn't immediately pull away, holding him just a while longer.

Perria was confused at the slight flutter in her chest, puzzled as to why she felt so... content, sitting here with Fledge. She brushed the feeling off her shoulder like salt, preferring not to worry over it. And still, she couldn't help but wish for this to not be the only time they are close like this.

. . .


	5. Dancing in the Dark (FledgePerria)

**Chapter Summary: Perria and Fledge end up being the odd ones out at the Academy's dance, but perhaps they can party on their own?**

_**A/n: Perria has friend-zoned Fledge so many times at this point that he's started friend-zoning himself so she won't have to. But, I promise this chapter is a step out of that trend!**_

**Pairings: Fledge/Perria (One-sided, maybe?), Mihrian/Strich (Mentioned), Groose/Zelda (Mentioned), Implied Cawlin/Perria (One-sided)**

**Words: 2200+**

**Warnings: Anxiety attacks, Awkwardness, Unnecessary descriptions of dresses cus fuck why not?**

**(also, I literally just wrote this today so It hasn't had a few days worth of contemplative editing. Should be fine though.)**

**. . .**

The orchestra set the party into full swing the moment a chord was struck, but now the lively music died down into something much… slower. Some groups disbanded to relocate around the refreshment tables, while others found seats off to the side as the dateless 'came in a group' students waited for another upbeat song.

Others paired off and skittered over to the dance floor to slow dance with their partners and friends. Perria watched from a round table as the couples poured in, her black heels discarded at her feet and a red cup pressed to her lips filled with some sort of fruity punch. She smiled when she saw Strich coaxing a less-than-eager Mihrian to join him on the floor, and gave a nod and wink of reassurance when the brunette sent a wary look her way.

The younger girl smiled in her gratitude and let her resistance go slack, allowing Strich to pull her out onto the dancefloor, her flowy maroon dress twirling to follow her steps as she turned. It was a simple and cute choice of wear, ankle-length to show off her short red heels and loose enough to move around freely. The neckline formed a high collar around her throat and her sleeveless shoulders free of hindrances or barriers. Perria admired her own handiwork, including the tiny bun she'd managed to wind Mihrian's short, brown hair into.

As soon as they were in the middle of it all, Mihrian immediately clung to Strich's waist, conscious of all the eyes following her around.

Perria looked away from the scene and was blessed by the hilarity of another when she spotted Groose dragging a giggly Zelda to the dancefloor, although she couldn't quite tell who was dragging who. Zelda was in a gorgeous white and gold summer dress that fell to her knees and lacked a waistline, so the whole thing flowed as freely as her spirit did. The neckline fell off the shoulders with loose sleeves, paired with a cute pair of chunky sandals. And Groose… Perria had never seen him so dressed up! He'd settled for a plain off-white button-down and some dress pants as opposed to the fancier robes the other students wore, but it suited him.

The two danced clumsily at first, drawing the eyes and chuckles of many, but soon fell into a steady, practiced sway. Perria couldn't help but notice that Groose held his partner a bit closer than everyone else, less worried about flash as much as being as close as possible to Zelda, who didn't seem to mind at all. Perria didn't know when the two started seeing one another, but they looked happy.

As she let her gaze wander over the crowd, she, of course, noticed Karane and Pipit. A mixed feeling bubbled in her gut at the sight, and of course, her worried gaze flitted over to the miserable heap that was Cawlin slumped at a table across the room. His eyes no-doubt locked on the pair she'd just studied. The indigo-haired boy surprisingly met her gaze and Perria felt her cheeks fill with color as she quickly averted her eyes.

Perria looked back over to her friend and was delighted to see a much calmer Mihrian dancing carelessly with her strikingly taller boyfriend. She had been wary of Strich at first, as any best friend would be, but she saw now that Mihrian was in good, capable hands.

Fledge peered over the rim of his cup across the room, at the lonely shape of Perria whom he'd been steadily building up the courage to talk to. He shouldn't be so nervous, they had come together after all. An epiphany he wished he'd had much sooner because upon that simple realization he felt his nimble feet carrying him away from the punch bowl and towards the only girl that seemed to matter in the room. Fledge swallowed down his anxiety and approached Perria, her head perking up at the sight of him and a warm smile gracing her pink lips. He gulped down his nervousness and timidly smiled back, stopping in front of her with fidgeting hands.

"Hi." She greeted before he could think to retreat, and the simple word steeled him in place.

"H-hi," Fledge replied rather lamely, in fact probably most awkwardly as he shifted on his heels. But what else was he supposed to say? _Hi, I've been staring at you across the room since we got here, but only just now had the guts to talk to you? _Goddess something was wrong with him.

And when he looked up at Perria he was surprised to see her staring at him with wide eyes, her face almost cherry-red and her lips slightly parted. What was wrong? Did he say something? Was there somebody behind him—

"S-so, you've been staring at me, huh?" Perria finally said, the smuggest grin he's ever seen her have dancing playfully across her lips.

Fuck.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—_

Did he say that out loud? Not good. Nice going, Fledge. Now he's done it. What should he say? Should he say anything? He didn't know!

"I-I, u-uh d-don't, I uh—_I'm sorry_— I shouldn't h-ave said—'_m sorry_, I'm so _stupid_ so incredibly stupid and you're so beautiful— and I…! _Sorry!_" Fledge's face was so red with embarrassment it almost turned purple, he felt faint and silently wished he hadn't even walked over here. No, he shouldn't even have come!

He was starting to feel really light-headed now. The music, albeit slow and calm, seemed blaring, unbearably loud in his head, and he felt nausea starting to roll in like waves on the sandy shore of his stomach. He was starting to feel dizzy… feeling overwhelmed by all these things going on around him, Fledge squeezed his eyes shut and shrunk in on himself, elbows tucked tightly towards his body protectively.

Fledge didn't even register that he was being tugged along by someone and his feet were moving willingly to follow until he took a lungful of cool, fresh air that definitely wasn't what he remembered breathing in the dance hall.

He cracked his eyes open curiously and was met with the dark, star-speckled night sky. He let himself breathe for a moment, trying to calm down his spiraling anxiety and the sickening churn of his stomach before he began to process his surroundings. He instantly became hyperaware of the hand stroking his back, calmly, soothingly.

He soon realized that he wasn't in the crowded party area anymore, but instead, he was just outside the back exit of the Academy. As his senses starting coming back to him, one by one, he picked up on the gentle hushed voice of someone beside him. He glanced over to see… Perria? And, they were outside, together. Did she? He finally began to hear the hushed reassurances she was whispering to him.

"Hey, hey it's okay—_you're okay_—we're out of there now, _you're okay_."

Following her gentle directions, Fledge took a deep breath and let it out just as smoothly, feeling the sickening tension between his brows start to fade and mellow. Feeling her hand still rubbing circles on his upper back and the other reaching up to brush against his face he leaned into her touch, relishing the softness of her skin against his cheekbone and the pressure on his shoulders. Did she really bring him out here because she realized it was too much for him?

Now talking with a level head and not worried about anyone else looking at him, he turned to her—head tipped down to the grass with shame—and spoke. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," She says, taking a gentle hold of his chin and tipping it up. Fledge's heart was racing again, but for different reasons now as his whole face started to bloom a deep pink that reached the tips of his pointed ears in its intensity. "You looked like you needed air."

Fledge nods bashfully and allows himself to melt into Perria's touch, who seemed undeterred by his awareness and settled both hands on either side of his face. She pulled him to a light hug, wrapping her arms around him securely and Fledge happily returned it, burying his face into her neck. Stroking soothing circles onto his back still, Perria relaxed as well, her mother-hen worriedness coming to a standstill. Fledge mumbled something unintelligible into her shoulder and she hummed questioningly, asking him to repeat himself.

"Thank you," His voice sounded weak, but overflowing with both gratitude and vulnerability as he thanked her. No one had ever done something like this for him before. While his mother had been always gentle with him, she'd constantly pushed him to get out of his comfort zone, to overcome his fears when he wasn't ready yet. No one had ever indulged his wish to be held and whisked away from others. "_Thank you."_

Catching on to the meaning behind him repeating the phrase as well as the crack in his voice as he did, Perria shushed him and pulled him closer into her arms. She'd always known Fledge was shy, isolated, and reserved, but never to this level. If she'd known this would happen beforehand… It didn't matter what she'd had done to prevent his distress or even coming to this dance, it mattered what she'd do to fix it now that he was in her arms, vulnerable and needy.

Mihrian used to be like this. That's why she knew what to do, why she knew what was happening and how to deal with it. But Fledge was not Mihrian, she reminded herself. Not everything that worked on her dear friend would work with him and she'd have to cope with that difference the best she could.

Fledge sighed, not in the previous self-contempt way, but relieved, and stepped away, only putting minimal distance between them. He stayed an arm's length away, not asking for her to follow, but hinting that it was okay if she did.

Fledge's eyes wandered over her now, widening as if seeing her for the first time tonight. She was wearing a long dusty, light-purple dress—_now his new favorite color_—with thin straps tied around her neck, and thicker ones draped over her shoulder's, receding into a simple bodice and a loose skirt that stopped just above her ankles. Fledge couldn't help but smile at the sight of her bare feet, recalling something she'd said about hating heels once. His eyes drifted back up to her face, only light make-up, and her hair only done in a neater pony-tail than usual. She was beautiful, like always, and yet this was different.

"You look… wow." Again his words failed him and his face scrunched up upon hearing his own dumbness, and yet he heard her laugh full-heartedly and felt her hands settle on his shoulders.

"Thank you, Fledge, you too." Fledge felt silly continuing to mention his blush, for the hot blood never really strayed from his cheeks when she was around. And even more so when he realized that he really hadn't dressed up, wearing his usual uniform but having ditched the orange overshirt and blue scarf. Why was she complimenting him?

Perria suddenly was graced with a wonderful idea. She could still hear the muffled music of the Orchestra coming from the building even outside, and seeing as Fledge was much more comfortable out here…

"Do you wanna dance?" Perria felt a bit odd asking, especially when Fledge's face went from content to mortified. And she realized what that must've sounded like. "Just out here, so there's nobody to look at us."

He visibly relaxed now knowing she didn't intend to drag him back into that goddess-forsaken place, and yet still panicking because his special person had just asked him, yes _him_, to dance. Did he want to dance? YES. But... what if...?

Sensing his inner-turmoil, Perria let her hands slide down to grasp both of his and stepped in closer, realizing she might have to guide him through this. Fledge's inner-panic halted when she guided both of his hands to rest on her lower back and held onto his biceps in case he got spooked. At first, his gaze darted to where her hand met his body hyper-aware of every place they were touching in some way.

"Fledge, eyes on me," Perria gently urged and he obeyed, his timid brown eyes rolling up to meet with hers and he felt himself relax. She slid her hands cautiously up to his shoulders and linked her hands loosely around his neck, guiding the both of them into an unpracticed sway to the muffled beat of the music. "It's just me." She said, and Fledge felt all inhibitions leave him at once, like letting go of a balloon of worries to be carried away with the wind.

Perria sighed contentedly, leaning further into Fledge's arms when she was sure he was relaxed and rested her chin on his shoulder, letting her eyes flutter shut. She could feel the prickle of the grass beneath her bare feet, tickling her ankles with every sensual step.

He relished the closeness, the complete amount of trust-building and vulnerability that led up to this moment. The sweet scent of flowery shampoo from her hair, the smile he felt on her lips against his collarbone and the loose comfort of her arms around him. He's never felt this comfortable with anyone in his entire life, being able to slowly dance with them without a care in the world.

Did this mean Perria was as madly in love with him as he was with her? No. But this was enough, she was enough… and maybe, just maybe… he was enough too.

They were _just friends_, but he could live with that as long as they could do this again.

. . .


End file.
